Action Movies and Raspberry Vodka
by PoeticallyIrritating
Summary: At slumber parties, Veronica used to lie about her first kiss.


Veronica spent two years of slumber parties lying about her first kiss. She always told the story of Duncan on their third date with his hand on the back of her neck, lips touching lips (tentative at first but then more sure) and then there were tongues and the edges of teeth and it was a really good kiss but it wasn't her first. But she was only fudging it by a few weeks, so it didn't feel like that big a lie, and after enough games of truth or dare it started to feel like the truth.

It wasn't, though. Duncan mentioned that she was a good kisser and she giggled and shrugged and pretended that it was dumb luck and maybe some practice on her hand. But he wasn't her first kiss and she always felt guilty for not telling him.

(But it was kind of nice, too, that it was a secret.)

Veronica was sitting cross-legged on Lilly's bed, and they were watching a movie and painting each other's nails. Veronica had surrendered her right hand to Lilly's expert manicure skills. Lilly's hands were acceptable but messy, and Veronica suspected that Lilly could have done them better herself. But Lilly didn't seem to mind. She watched the explosions on the screen out of the corner of her eye as she brushed Veronica's nails with bright blue.

"So, Veronica," she said, with a mischievous smile that Veronica knew too well. "Ask me about my sex life."

Veronica's eyes went wide. "_What?_" Her naïve shock was embarrassing; she tried to erase it from her face.

Lilly grinned.

"Wait, did you and Logan—" Shy, Veronica didn't finish her sentence.

"Have sex?" She shrugged, but her eyes twinkled wickedly. "What can I say, Veronica? I know what I want." And she arched her eyebrows like _that_, the way that made Veronica shiver at the daring contained in her friend.

Veronica blushed and looked down at her hands, one of which was still in both of Lilly's. She was on her last finger. "So," Veronica said finally, "what was it like?"

Lilly thought for a second, finishing up Veronica's last nail and blowing on it to help it dry. Veronica giggled at the unexpected air rushing across her fingertips. "The first time was over pretty fast, but Logan's a quick learner." Her kohl-lined eyes brightened with mischief.

Veronica didn't know what to say to that. She blushed again and felt ashamed of the body that had never been touched, the lips that had never been kissed. Almost fifteen and never been kissed and she felt a little like she might be defective.

Lilly read her feelings on her face somehow. "Don't feel bad," she said. "You'll have your time, V!" She laughed. Lilly always threw her head back when she laughed. Her laughter was exhilarating; not infectious or inclusive, but something that you felt privileged to be hearing. "Do you want some vodka? I stole it from my parents this afternoon."

Veronica, out of her depth and lacking excuses, offered a shy smile and shrugged her tentative agreement. Lilly needed no further encouragement; she climbed up on her desk chair and unscrewed the air vent. Almost-fifteen Veronica filed this trick away for a mysterious future where she might be secretive and exciting, where she would hide things from her parents and meet secret boyfriends and go to parties.

"It's raspberry," Lilly announced, dropping back down on the bed, bottle in hand.

Veronica thought that sounded palatable. She took a sip, larger than she'd planned, and coughed at the burning sensation down her throat and then deep in her belly. Lilly laughed. "Veronica Mars, you are adorable." She took a slug and offered the bottle back to Veronica. Veronica held onto it. She let the first sip sit for a few minutes, and then took a smaller one. This time she could taste the raspberry along with the sharp, surprising taste of the alcohol.

She had a few more sips before offering it back to Lilly. Lilly took another slug—probably equivalent to one shot, Veronica's health-class-trained mind calculated—and then placed the bottle on the floor. They sat back to watch the rest of the movie, shoulders touching, in the middle of the big bed. Veronica settled into a quietness that hadn't been there earlier that night, and Lilly noticed.

"What's got you all silent, Miss Veronica?" she asked, nudging Veronica with her elbow.

Veronica made a noncommittal sound.

"Are you still sad about being all pure and chaste? It's not a bad thing, you know." She stroked Veronica's hair, still watching the movie out of the corner of her eye. "You've got your entire life for sex. I just couldn't stand to wait!"

Veronica felt in awe of her: Lilly who did what she wanted, no matter what anyone thought. She didn't think of consequences and she never calculated things in her head. "Nobody's ever even kissed me," Veronica said quietly. She was ashamed again; she blushed. Lilly knew this, of course, but Veronica still didn't like saying it. Practically everybody she knew had had their first kiss already. She added, even more quietly, "What if nobody ever wants to?"

Lilly nudged her harder in the side. "Don't be an idiot, Veronica Mars. I know of at least two people who would die for the chance to kiss you."

Veronica turned now, her knee pushing into Lilly's thigh as she did. "What? Who?"

Lilly grinned. "I don't know if I should tell you."

"Come on, Lilly." Veronica felt ridiculous, embarrassed by how much she wanted to know. She had been trained to give importance to books and grades and marketable skills, not boys. But somehow the desire to be kissed, the desperate hope for a boyfriend, had seeped into her psyche anyway. "Please tell me."

Lilly threw up her hands, a theatrical affectation that Veronica allowed herself to buy. "Fine, Veronica, you've worn me down! Duncan has a thing for you. He told me."

Veronica felt blood rushing to her cheeks. Duncan Kane? _Really?_ He had been the guy that everyone had a crush on since fourth grade. And he liked her? She smiled incredulously and felt flattered and pressed her hands to her face in a desperate attempt to avoid an obvious blush.

When she had recovered from the shock, she remembered. "You said two guys."

"I said two _people_." Lilly arched her eyebrows. And then before Veronica's mind had caught up, Lilly had turned towards her and swung one knee across her legs. She grabbed Veronica's shoulders and kissed her, hard. Veronica did her best to kiss back, trying out the lip movements she had seen in movies. But it was all she could do to keep up; it was a dizzying barrage of lips and—oh!—teeth—and then Lilly's hand was on her waist, gripping her shirt, the other tangled in her hair, and all Veronica could do was grab Lilly's waist and hold on.

Finally Lilly pulled away. She wore a self-satisfied grin, and the prolonged eye contact seemed to be daring Veronica to say something.

Veronica said nothing. She was busy trying to regulate her breathing, to tamp down the fire that had spread from her mouth to her chest to low in her belly. Her fingertips were tingling. Her head felt fuzzy and she was pretty sure that it wasn't just from the alcohol.

Without another word, Lilly disentangled their legs and turned back to the movie. Veronica stared at the screen without seeing it. She kept stealing glances at Lilly, at her lips, at the pink lip gloss—Veronica's lip gloss—smudged by the corner of her mouth.

Lilly noticed her staring. "All right, Mars?" she said, not a question but a challenge.

"Fine." She tried to make her voice light and careless, but it wavered. She still hadn't really caught her breath. She ran her tongue over her lips thoughtfully, and even as Lilly laughed and turned back to the screen, Veronica imagined kissing her again.

Many years later, Veronica finally told a friend about her real first kiss. It was a story from her childhood told with laughter in her eyes. A story told to someone who never knew Lilly. The friend suggested that perhaps it didn't count as a first kiss—it was with a girl, after all—and Veronica was surprised at her own rage. Because that kiss with Lilly counted, perhaps more than any other kiss in her entire life. It wasn't that she had been in love with Lilly—their friendship had verged more on hero-worship than anything else. It was that Lilly had come into her life for such a short time, dazzled her, kissed her, and then one day she was _gone _and everything about her became evidence, sealed up in plastic bags. Most of Veronica's memories of Lilly were complicated. The kiss was no exception. But whenever she thought about it, even so many years later, she felt so bright she could light up a room.


End file.
